Breaking Away
by learning from birds to sing
Summary: "When he first moves to Heatherfield, he is ten years old and quite terrified." Nigel centric, Taranee/Nigel. How Nigel breaks away from Uriah and the gang.


_Breaking Away_

Summary: "When he first moves to Heatherfield, he is ten years old and quite terrified." Nigel centric, Taranee/Nigel. How Nigel breaks away from Uriah and the gang.

* * *

When he first moves to Heatherfield, he is ten years old and quite terrified. Who wouldn't have been?

"You'll adjust," says his mother kindly. "Change can be exciting." Nigel only sighs and wonders if adults are paid to say that sort of stuff. He's leaving his best friend since kindergarten, Zac, and the house and the skateboarding park and everyone else to go to somewhere new and scary. Sure, change is exciting.

At least one good thing is that his parents had the foresight to move right at the beginning of summer. So no stress about school or anything—yet.

For a few days—okay, weeks—he skateboards in the small driveway in front of his house but otherwise does not venture anywhere else near the neighborhood. Most ten year old boys would be curious. He's just scared.

Still, his parents want him get to know his peers, so they force him to go to the local park the next day. With_out _his skateboard. A new type of cruelty, he thinks, kicking a rock.

"Hey, you new?" asks a kid that looks around his age. The kid is tall with spiky hair and a helmet, and a skateboard. A good sign, he thinks.

"Yeah," he says. "I'm Nigel."

"Uriah," the kid replies. "These are Kurt and Clobber." He points at the two fat kids next to him. "You good on a skateboard? Because Kurt stole his brother's."

Stealing isn't very nice, he thinks, but brothers are always like that. If he had a sibling, he would probably do the same thing. "Yeah, sure," he says, happy that he gets to skateboard despite his mother's interference. For the rest of the day, he and the three boys skateboard and hang around the park together, and Nigel thinks that he's found his first friends in Heatherfield.

* * *

His parents are touchingly concerned on his first day of school.

"Moving to a new school is always hard experience," his mother says. He shrugs because hem might actually be excited, now that he thinks he has friends. On his birthday, September 3rd, which happens to be the day before school starts, his parents even get him his a brand new skateboard.

It's nicer than anything Uriah or Kurt and the rest of the gang did for him, but he's new and he doesn't know anyone else, so he continues hanging out with him.

He walks in on the first day of school and Uriah is picking on a poor kid with glasses, _bullying _him. He feels sick to his stomach and can't believe he's friends with this creep, but he doesn't have anyone else to sit with during lunch and Uriah is nice to _him_, at least, so he doesn't say anything. So long as Uriah doesn't expect him to do the same, he'll continue hanging out with Uriah.

He must be the biggest coward in the world.

* * *

He learns that the poor kid with glasses that Uriah always picks on is named Aron. There are other victims too: Martin, Erica, Abraham, and anyone else who seems to cross Uriah's path, but it's Aron that seems to get the hardest time. Every time it happens, he watches from the sidelines and feels his stomach churn again, but he's still too cowardly. Too cowardly to lose his only friends and potentially become a victim himself.

* * *

He's been in Heatherfield as Uriah's friend for two years when he meets Matt. He's playing the guitar in his garage one day, when the garage door opens and he's mortified. No one knows he plays guitar other than his new family—not Uriah, not Kurt or Clobber, and if he's been discovered, then who knows what will happen?

It's a boy standing outside, one he's seen around school but never really paid attention to.

"Hey," the boy says. "Matt Olsen. You go to Sheffield, right?"

Nigel nods, still mortified.

"I heard sweet music coming from outside and just had to check it out. Your parents let me in. I'm starting a band. Want to join?" he asks.

He's psyched. A band. And a possible friend other than Uriah. Maybe things are looking up.

* * *

School is almost over, and he cannot wait for summer. Practices with the band, which turns out to be _much _nicer than Uriah, and chilling at the beach in the Bahamas, and skateboarding and just relaxing. Ah, summer.

But then there's Uriah, he thinks, as Uriah approaches him with a spray bottle of graffiti.

"Today, after school," he orders. "Bathrooms."

He nods, because what else can he do?

* * *

He's sick of Uriah. Sick of him, but he also has no idea what to do about him. And it's so frustrating, because Uriah's picking on poor Aron again, and after that, he agreed to go graffiti up the bathroom with him, and it's _just so frustrating_!

And he hates himself because he's just _watching _Uriah being a bully again.

Then up comes a pretty dark-skinned girl with glasses, and she says, "Leave him _alone_, Uriah!" Nigel's seen that face before, but he can't quite place a name to the face. She's the smart, quiet girl in his math class, he thinks. But the name still eludes him.

Uriah laughs. "What are you going to do, nerd? Report me to the principal? Oh, I'm so scared," he says sarcastically. "Listen up, nerd. You don't tell me what to do. _No _one tells me what to do. Because _I _am always right."

"I'm serious," says the girl. Her hands are shaking and she must be scared, but her voice is firm. And are those flames Nigel sees reflected in her glasses? And then Uriah's butt pocket goes red hot, and Nigel swears that Uriah jumps fifty feet into the air, screaming, "_Hot!_"

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Nigel hears the girl quietly mutter under her breath. She offers her hand to poor Aron and helps him pick up his books. Then the pair quietly leaves, leaving Uriah still moaning about _hot_!

Nigel stands gaping. He's impressed and jealous all at the same time. Impressed because that was so sizzlingly _epic_ (no pun intended). And jealous because this quiet girl had the guts to stand up to Uriah and he didn't. And as he watches the girl and Aron walk off together, lightly conversing, with Aron blushing a light red, he feels another stab of jealousy. A totally different type of jealousy.

* * *

He refuses to graffiti the bathrooms with Uriah that night.

* * *

Taranee Cook. That's the name, he realizes, the name of the pretty girl.

He realizes this in math class when she volunteers to work the problem on the board, a problem he completely doesn't get. She works out the problem with an easy confidence, and it's _understandable_, to his shock. And math is never understandable to him.

Taranee Cook, he thinks. And he repeats the name over and over to himself. Taranee Cook. Taranee Cook. Ta-ra-nee Cook. Taranee Ashcroft—wait, what is he thinking? He shakes his head to get the thought out.

* * *

Summer comes and goes, as it always does. He spends the majority of summer break on vacation in the Bahamas. On the days that he does spend in Heatherfield, he tries to hang out with Matt and the band. He's avoiding Uriah on purpose and he's starting to get so obvious he thinks that even the less-than-intelligent Kurt and Clobber might notice. It's cowardly, he knows, but better than confronting Uriah.

When summer ends, eighth grade begins. And with it, Algebra. He'd barely squeaked by with a C in Pre-Algebra last year, so naturally even the "easy" beginning chapters are giving him a headache. His nasty new teacher, Mrs. Stern, isn't helping much.

Taranee Cook is in his math class again. He sneaks a look at her. She's intently taking notes and there's something absolutely _adorable _about that concentration. He wonders what Uriah would say about her: teacher's pet, geek, nerd, loser.

Forget Uriah for once. He doesn't care.

* * *

He's staring at her again.

He can't help himself. It's been like this for almost a month now, since school started again. And then, for the first time since he's been crushing on her, she turns around, meets his gaze, and gives a small smile.

His heart stops.

He's soaring for some reason after that, and he can't be brought down even when Uriah confronts him after school.

"Dude, what is it with you totally _bailing _on us nowadays?"

"Uriah, chill," he says. "I'm just not… I'm just not really into that sort of stuff anymore."

Uriah gapes, and Nigel grabs his helmet and skateboards away. As he does so, he passes a poster advertising the Back-to-School Dance at Sheffield.

He has an idea.

* * *

In math class, time usually seems to creep by at snail pace. Not today. Today, time seems to be going blurringly quickly. He blinks his eyes and a minute is already gone. He stares at Taranee, his heart in his throat. _You have to ask her before this class is over_, he reminds himself. _You promised yourself that you would. You've already been procrastinating for a week. The dance is this Friday and if you don't ask now then someone else could snag her…_

The bell rings. Normally, he would bolt from his seat and rush towards the cafeteria, as math was right before lunch, but today he lingers. He watches Taranee as the girl packs up her books ever so slowly. Time is playing tricks on him again because now everything seems to be moving ridiculously slowly. And then all of a sudden time speeds up and she's leaving—Taranee's _leaving_. It's now or never.

"H-hey," he stutters as he makes his way over to her. Smooth, he thinks. Trying to keep his nerves in check, he continues. "Taranee, right?"

"Yeah," she answers absentmindedly, straining to look over his shoulder where one of her friends, Hay Lin he thinks, is waiting. "May I help you?"

"Um, um." His tongue feels too thick for his mouth. "I'm Nigel."

"I know," she replies, sounding mildly impatient now. Meanwhile, Nigel's stomach is doing backflips. _She knew my name. She knows my name!_

"You… you want to go to the dance with me?" he blurts out.

She stares at him. Blinks once. Blinks twice. Then smiles. "Yes."

* * *

"I hear you're going to the dance with that little nerd, Tara or something."

Nigel sighs. It's Thursday, the day right before the dance, and he's soaring at the thought of tomorrow. Of course Uriah had to ruin it though.

"Taranee," he gets out through gritted teeth. "Her name is Taranee. And she's a cool kid."

Uriah laughs. "Seriously, Nigel? I can't believe you've sunk that low. I used to think _you _were cool, man. Now you're like, lame. A _loser_!"

And that's when he decides that he's not going to take it anymore. He's going to stand up for himself. "You know what, Uriah? Just bug off. I'm tired of hanging out with you."

Uriah, who's definitely not used to getting cheek from his _own gang_, is struck speechless for a while. Then he stands tall and almost screams, "You're going to regret this, Ashcroft! And I still think that little _Taranee _of yours is a _loser_! And so are you!"

"Bug off," he says calmly, standing up taller so that he is at eye level with Uriah. "I'm serious."

Uriah sputters, tries to threaten, and then storms away.

Feeling as if a huge load has been lifted, he turns away from Uriah and almost runs into Taranee. And suddenly his throat goes dry. He wonders how long she's been standing there, listening, and feels his ears redden.

"Ha-have you been standing there the entire time?" Curse that reappearing stutter.

Taranee shrugs and nods, and the faintest of blushes sprinkles her cheeks. "That was pretty cool, Nigel." She takes his hand.

He feels lightheaded. Maybe Taranee's not his girl yet. But she's pretty close to it. And he's just overthrown Uriah after three or so years of struggling, and he feels as if this couldn't get more perfect.

He's finally broken away.

* * *

The end. There _seriously_ needs to be more Taranee/Nigel fics in this fandom. Can I just say how much I love those two together? So I wrote this. Hope you enjoyed.


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